Lost Without You
by immabehappy
Summary: Shawn, Angela, Cory and Topanga wade through life's ups and downs of mixing relationships, work and school. Picks up after Season 7.
1. Chapter 1: After The Finale

**Diclaimer**: I do not own Boy Meets World or its characters. They belong to Michael Jacobs and April Kelly. I'm just borrowing them.

Chapter 1: After the finale

Soft rays of sunlight creeping in through the blinds from the nearby window created ultraviolet stripes that covered the arm he'd draped across his abdomen. He'd spent the past couple of hours staring at the ceiling fan that rotated over his feet. His sky blue eyes had been fixated on the petals of the ceiling fan hoping that it'd clear his mind, but all he could see was her. He allowed gravity to pull his head to the left, so he could look at the alarm clock facing him on the small coffee table next to the couch. Quick math told him that he had a little more than twenty minutes to attempt to fall asleep again, before the alarm was set to go off, he shut his eyes and tucked his right hand behind his head.

He tried to recall a scene from the last movie or sitcom he'd seen to help relax his mind long enough to catch a least twenty consecutive minutes of sleep. Memories of the last movie he'd seen were repeatedly pushed aside by the face of an Angel. His Angel. His Angela.

The image of her was so crisp and clear. He felt as though he could touch her, hold her in his arms, feel the weight of her body on his, the sensation of her lips on his, the taste of her tongue, her subtle scent of lavendar and soap, and the sound of her voice whispering, 'I love you' in his ear. He could feel the soft touch of her fingers strumming through his short cinnamon brown locks, as the smile that warmed his heart lit her face. The moment felt so real that he quietly uttered. "Don't ever leave."

She whispered sweetly into his ear. 'I won't.'

He took a deep breath that hollowed his chest before releasing a shaky exhale that turned into a whisper of. "I love you." He felt her fingertips float down to trace the side of his face.

Their eyes met and she smiled reassuringly. 'I love you too.'

Her image gradually faded from his thoughts, and a heavy weight seemed to build over his chest. A single tear slid down the side of his cheek as he opened his eyes. "Angela." He mumbled under his breath as if to summon her back to him. The alarm blared sooner than he anticipated and disappointment washed over his brooding face. He turned to look at it for a minute before slamming his hand down on the clock, immediately turning it off. He tossed the covers off of him and peeled himself off the sofa and into a seated position.

"Shawn," Topanga strutted into the living room dressed and ready for work. "I'm glad you're up, because we need to talk." She fanned out three sheets of unfolded notebook paper filled with handwriting on the front and back of each page. "I checked the mail yesterday…"

"Not now Topanga," Shawn growled while snatching the comforter from the couch, quickly covering the boxers that felt more snug in the front than they did when he put them on the night before. "It's too early and I'm not in the mood alright?" He grumbled while rubbing his hands up and down over his face.

"No, it's not alright." She snapped back. "Shawn, I finally got a letter back from Angela." She stuck her left hand at her hip while tossing the papers on the coffee table with the other hand. "She obviously never received any of the letters that I gave you to send her." A curious frown emerged on her face and she pushed the items on the coffee table over, so she could sit across from him. "What's going on?"

He rested his elbows at his knees and watched his hands rub against each other. "Nothing."

She rolled her eyes and shook her head. "Come on Shawn, this is me you're talking to. I've been thinking about all of times I've asked for her number and you either forget to give it to me or you changed the subject without me realizing it." Topanga covered his clasped hands with her right hand. "I haven't been worried about you since Angela left, because I thought you were keeping in touch with her and she'd just been too busy to get in touch with me. Come to find out…"

"Look," He dropped his hands from hers before looking up at her with sincerity in his eyes. "I'm sorry I lied to you. I'm sorry I held your letters, and I'll give them back to you so you can mail them to Angela yourself." He burrowed his brows. "I didn't send them, because I don't want you and Cory forcing us back together."

"But, Shawn…"

He stood up, stepping over her feet as he began making his way out of the room.

"She has messages for you in this letter." She stood up and watched him walk toward the hallway. "She wanted me to tell you that she misses you."

He froze where he stood, bowed his head and closed his eyes and allowed the pain to wash over him.

"She said that she loves you and she's worried about you." Topanga picked up the pages of the letter and held it out for him to come back and grab. "She's wondering why she hasn't heard from any of us in all this time, and she wanted me to ask you to call her."

Shawn's chest became tight, and he felt like he was struggling to breathe. "I know." He slowly turned around to look at Topanga. "I never opened the other letters she sent. I only read the last letter, because I thought something might be wrong." His eyes welled against his will and his head subtly moved side to side, as he dropped his hands to his thighs. "Topanga, I can't talk to her. Every time I _think _about her, it tears me up and leaves me raw on the inside. So, there's no way I can bring myself to call her. She's the only woman I've ever loved, and….She left me." He shrugged. "And as painful as it is…I have to move on, and so does she."

"It doesn't seem like she wants to move on, Shawn." Topanga gently rattled the papers in front of him, trying to prompt him to take them. "It's not over for her. She hasn't given up on your relationship."

"Not yet." He turned around and walked down the hallway.

"Angela!" A tall, caramel coated cutie with dimples and a sexy smile called out in a heavy French accent, as he stood up and rolled his wrist in a circular motion. "Over here!"

A sweet smile graced her face as she made her way through the crowded French café. She gently pushed passed the small diverse groups of readers, poets, laptop addicts, bloggers, and coffee sipping gossip junkies. Until making her way to the four-foot high table standing in the middle of her European friends. She hugged Sasha, a sassy blonde with doe shaped brown eyes, dimples, and medium frame that stood about three inches taller than Angela. She then hugged, Monique, a pretty brunette with silky jet black hair extending past her shoulders, smooth milky skin, and deep blue eyes that popped no matter what she was wearing. Angela slid her books onto the tabletop before perching herself up on the barstool next to Jean-Luke.

Jean-Luke paused for a moment with open arms before frowning at Angela. "What about me?"

Angela tilted her head to the side and smiled. "I'd hug you, but you have far too many hands for me to keep up with."

Monique rolled her eyes and shook her head while using her straw to stir the ice around in her drink. "So true."

"Don't keep up with them. Let them roam and see where they go." He placed his right hand on the small of her back while light brushing the back of his left hand across her cheek. "This, I'm okay with."

"Keep these to yourself, Luke" Angela pushed his arm out from behind her back and the other one from her face while smiling politely. "I'd hate for you to pull one back and it's broken."

"Okay" He eased his hands behind his back. "What about a kiss between friends?"

"I have a boyfriend." She chuckled while looking at Sasha and then Monique. "Why doesn't that translate?"

"Because, I enjoy your smile." Jean-Luke claimed the stool next to Angela's and leaned in closer to her. "I want to make you smile all of the time."

"Awe," She tilted her head to the side and smiled. "That's really sweet, but I already told you." She made a concerted effort to look him in the eyes. "I have a boyfriend."

"Oui, oui…Zohan, in the states." Jean-Luke bobbed his head while pulling his laptop out of its bag. "The one you haven't heard from since you got here."

She whipped around and threw up the index finger on her right hand. "First off, it's Shawn!" She narrowed her brows as her temperature rose. "And second: That's none of your business."

Jean-Luke glanced down at his laptop before looking back at her. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you." He placed his hand on the small of her back. "I just meant…"

"I know what you meant." Her eyes shifted down to his arm without turning her head. His eyes moved to where hers were and he quickly moved his hand. Angela turned her attention back to her book. "We have a paper to write."

"Hey Jean," Sasha placed the eraser end of her pencil at the corner of her mouth and flirtatiously smiled. "Pouvez-vous nous un peu de café s'il vous plait?"

"Oui, four of them." Monique held up four fingers and waved them. "Merci."

"Oui, four coffees." Jean-Luke sneered as he slipped off of his barstool. "Anything else I can get for you..eh-um…Ladies? As I seem to be the…uh" He glanced at the ceiling for a second. "Go-for-it man."

"Gopher" Angela chuckled.

"It is the same, no?" He smirked before walking away.

"Okay, now that he's gone." Sasha folded her arms on top of the round black table. "Have you heard back from anyone in the states yet?"

"No," Angela sunk down in her seat and bowed her head. "And I don't understand it." Her head remained down as she begun fidgeting with her fingers. "I mean I figured out that Topanga got the internship in New York after I got the letters back with her forwarding address, but then I started getting Shawn's letters back with his forwarding address being the same as Topanga's. All of that took a month or two to get straightened out. Okay, I get that." She sat up and folded her arms on top of the open book while taking turns looking at Sasha and then Monique. "(Sigh,) I prayed that Shawn would take the year apart in stride and keep in touch like we agreed to do, but I'm afraid that…" She shook her head before looking off to the side at nothing in particular, getting lost in thought.

"It's been what? Nearly four months?" Monique politely touched Angela's hand and spoke as sympathetically as she could. "Don't you think he's seeing someone else?"

Sasha's eyes widened as she turned to look at her friend. "Monique!"

"That's what guys do…you know…" Monique slowly raised her shoulders while rolling her wrist. "When they act like this way."

"No," Angela turned to look at Monique and the pain in her eyes was evident. "Promises were made and I trust him to keep them." She fought to tame the burning and stinging building in her eyes. "I just wish I could talk to him." She opened her arms while glancing at the ceiling and scoffed. "I just don't understand. Why I haven't at least heard from Topanga by now?"

"Eric, wait up will ya?" Shawn peered through his professional grade photographer's camera to get a shot of a couple of kindergarten aged kids playing with the bottle of bubbles that Eric gave them. A small grin flashed on Shawn's face after he got the perfect shot of the little boy in awe of the larger than normal bubble he'd just blown just as the little girl giggled when her finger got a centimeter away from popping it. "Okay, now she's trying to bite them." Shawn chuckled. "Gosh Eric, she could be yours."

Eric scurried over to them, scooped up the little girl and spun her around. "Recess is over!" He brought her back down the ground and watched her and the other kids start running to the building. "Slow down and line up!" He shouted while watching them come to a halt, a few at a time. "So, do you and Angela ever talk about having kids?"

"Yeah," Shawn hung his camera bag over his shoulder and watched the asphalt disappear from under his feet. "We..um..eh-um…we wanted two." He cleared his throat and narrowed his brows trying not to get choked up.

"A boy and a girl?" Eric smiled while watching the kids line up single file with their left hands in the air and their right index finger up in a shushing manner, in front of their closed mouths.

"No preference, just two healthy kids. So, they grow up always having each other." Shawn brought his redden eyes up to meet Eric's. "You're doing a great thing at this community center, Eric. I'm really proud of you."

"Thanks" Eric playfully slapped Shawn on the side of the arm. "And thanks for using the kids in your advertisement. I hope it'll bring some much needed attention here."

"Me too." Shawn walked behind Eric and the kids on Eric's team. "Will any of this time count towards classroom time?"

"No," Eric shook his head. "But, if I do a great job here they'll recommend me to one of the schools. I'll get some classroom time, some subbing gigs and I'll still get to hang out with these rugrats."

"Heeeey!" An adorable little girl in curly pigtails stuck her hands at her hips and tilted her head to the side while frowning at Eric. "I am not Angelica!"

Eric lifted his brows and corrected himself with a serious expression. "No, you're more like Tommy."

"Tommy's a boy!" She sternly stated while crossing her arms over her chest. "And now I'm just not going to be your friend for five minutes."

"Awe, Sofie." Eric fell to his knees and whined. "Five minutes is like forever!" He clasped his hands together and pleaded. "I can't have you mad at me for…forever."

"Okay," She giggled. "But, you'll have to give me a piggy back ride."

"How 'bout you give me a piggy back ride in a minute?" He smiled while getting back up to stand on his feet. He glanced at Shawn and smirked. "I always wanted a pony."

Shawn turned his head to face Eric's, tilted it back in a nod in unison with Eric's, raised his brows and smiled.

Sofie shouted in her sassy way. "You're too big!"

"Nah, we'll throw a saddle on you and it'll be fine." He nonchalantly added before watching her shake her head and walk away. He turned back to Shawn who had been staring at the same tile since they'd stopped walking.

Shawn lightly scratched the bottom of his beard that he'd obviously neglected for the past few days. "I'm going to head out."

Eric kicked his head back while trying to hide his worried expression. "Are you coming home at a decent hour tonight or are you gonna keep avoiding Cory?"

"I'm not avoiding Cory." Shawn glanced at the tiled floor for a second before looking off to the side at nothing in particular. "It's just that between this work-study program I'm doing at the advertising agency this year, and the full-time classes I'm taking at the University. I've just been so busy..."

"He's your best friend." Eric flatly stated.

"He is." Shawn nodded. "But, we can't live in that one bedroom apartment with him and Topanga forever." He looked back at Eric. "I'll catch up with Cory when our schedules do." He flashed a half-hearted smile. "Besides, you seem to be well rested lately and that works for you." He pointed at Eric and chuckled. "I'm thinking it's because you've been sleeping on my air mattress."

"Yeah" Eric bobbed his head a couple of times. "Talk to Cory."

"I'll see you later." Shawn waved his hand once from left to right before exiting the building.

A light tapping of knuckles hitting the glass door of Topanga's small office prompted her to raise her head. She threw her index finger up, bowed her head and continued sifting through the numerous stacks of papers on her desk while continuing to speak to the person on the other end of the phone.

"Topanga." Cory softly called out, only to be answered by the same index finger that originally greeted him. "I stopped by to take you to dinner."

Topanga lifted her head and shot him a scolding glare that screamed 'are you kidding me?' She flung her hand forward and moved it in a back and forth motion, before continuing to search through the paperwork on her overcrowded desktop. "Yes, Mr. Simon. You'll have it by the close of business today." She hung up the phone and exhaled deeply. "Cory, I'm working."

"You're always working." Cory stepped into the office and sat down in the chair directly in front of her desk. "I haven't seen you in days."

"Honey, I'm only here four hours a day, two days a week." She explained without stopping the flow of her work. "And I should remind you that this is not one of those two days." She pushed herself back from her desk to make it a little easier to find what she was looking for. "I'm working today, because…" She lifted a piece of paper and breathed a sigh of relief that she'd finally found the document she was looking for. "Someone left a ton of files on my desk and I have to put them together and up to one of the Partners before I leave today." She frowned in thought. "What were you saying?"

"Dinner" Cory quickly reiterated. "I was asking if you'd go to dinner with me."

"I don't have time." Topanga unintentionally snapped.

"Don't get an attitude, alright." Cory leaned forward and became serious. "I haven't seen you in days and I miss you. I just want to spend some time with my wife who has to eat at some point this evening. That's all."

"I'm sorry, but I can't do this with right now." Topanga began organizing the sheets of paper scattered across her desk. "I promise that I will spend time with you as soon I can, but in the meantime.." Her eyes shifted around the room in search of missing file. "Why don't you hang out with Shawn?"

"Shawn?" Cory frowned. "Shawn who? He's been busier than you. I haven't seen him in over a week." He scratched his head at his sudden revelation. "You know what I can't understand?" He rubbed his smooth chin. "There's four of us sharing a one bedroom apartment and the only person I ever see is me." He stood up and began pacing. "Eric spends all of his free time at the Community Center, Shawn's working and going to school, you're working and going to school and what do I have?" He flattened his hand on her desk, leaned forward and growled. "Nothing and no one."

"You're going to school too." She quickly added.

"Yeah, but my workload's not has intense as yours or Shawn's." Cory sulked.

"Honey, I would love to delve into the Coryland…where over-reacting prevails, but…" She raked her fingers through her long golden brown locks in an attempt to control her frustration. "Again…I don't have time."

"Okay, okay…" He nodded while making his way to the door. "My wife doesn't have time for me. My best friend doesn't have time for me…" He threw his hand up and let it come down to hit his thigh as he made his way out of the door. "Eric doesn't even have time for me." He muttered under his breath. "Maybe I'll call Feeney. He'll have time for me."


	2. Chapter 2: The Call

**Diclaimer**: I do not own Boy Meets World or its characters. They belong to Michael Jacobs and April Kelly. I'm just borrowing them.

Thanks for reviewing…YAY! I know I just kind of sprang this story on you. I'm finishing up the last chapter of 'Stronger Than Pride' for 21 Jump Street and then update on 'Beginnings.' We got the last 3 seasons of 'Boy Meets World' for Christmas, which rounded out our collection. I forgot about how great Shawn and Angela were, and I forgot how well they played against Cory and Topanga. I just felt like they deserved a little closure. Shawn should not have to go through fictional life as a 3re wheel for Cory and Topanga.

Chapter 2

Steady drops of rain painted the window she wearily stared out of. Her body, curled up in the window seat located in the corner of her darkened room. Her eyes still a little swollen and puffy from the tears that silently steamed down her cheeks around the same time each morning, despite her best efforts to hold them back. Spotting one drop of rain sliding down the opposite side of the window, she placed her index finger over it, following the lonely drop's plight to the bottom of the window sill. Dragging her eyes back up the window, she envisioned the love of her life smiling back at her. Her fingertips began traveling along the imaginary line of his goatee while looking into his eyes…those eyes. Those intensely sexy hazel eyes, that she'd made a habit out of getting lost in. They are a moody reflection of his pain, his sorrow, his love, his innocence, his passion and his borderline happiness. They are her handbook to him. They are as much her direct connection to his soul, as they were to hers. She placed a small yellow throw pillow on her knees, wrapped her arms around her legs and allowed her thoughts to continue to drift as she watched the rain.

***** "Hey!" Shawn announced as he walked into the apartment, shutting the door behind him. He dipped a brow in confusion and curiosity when Morgan crossed his path. She was wearing a shiny soft pink satin dress, complete with a hoop skirt trimmed in white lace, puffy sleeves accented with lavender bows, and pink elbow length gloves. Shawn pointed to Morgan before looking at Topanga. "Is that the bridesmaid gown?"

"Yes, Shawn it is." Topanga sharply answered.

He lifted his head in the direction of Angela's room. "Sssooo, Angela?"

"Yeah, she's wearing one of these…." Morgan cut her eyes at Topanga and scowled. "Clown suits! These hideous shiny clown suits!"

"They're beautiful Southern Belle gowns." Topanga calmly stated before frowning at Morgan and shouting. "Get caught up in the magic!"

"Topanga," Shawn shook his head and chuckled while walking up the stairs. "You're from Philly."

"That's what I said." Morgan plopped down on the couch with the television remote in her hand.

Shawn reached the doorway of Angela's room, taking a minute to watch her slip off her pink elbow length gloves. A sly smile spread across his face as he quietly stood behind her. He couldn't see the smile that brightened her face when she felt the hoop skirt push forward, followed by the warmth of his body at her back. He gathered the hair cascading down her back and moved it to her right shoulder. "Let's get you out of this…" He pulled the zipper down slowly. "Whatever this thing is." He began pushing the sleeves down. "Is she serious?"

"Unfortunately, yes she is." Angela held her arms at her chest, stopping the dress from falling. She glanced at him from a side profile. "Are you?"

Shawn stepped back, spread his hands apart and smiled. "What?"

She turned around, cocking her head to the side while raising a brow. "Everyone's downstairs. They'll hear us."

"So" He shrugged.

She leveled her head while squinting her eyes. "Shawn"

"Fine" He laughed while throwing himself on her bed. "I'll just lay here and let you strip for me." He crossed his legs at the ankles, smoothed his hands over his hair before propping his head up to look at her. She glared at him for several seconds, until he raised his brows and rolled his wrist. "Come on, gorgeous. We need to make a movie."

Angela's expression toggled between a smile and a scowl. "What?"

"Make_ the_ movie." He quickly clarified with a charming smile. "We don't want to be late for _the_ movie."

"Mmm-riiight." She rolled her eyes, biting back a small grin. "Whatever," She shimmied the dress down until it hit the floor. "I have to figure out a better way to talk Topanga out of making us wear these dresses."

"Maybe she wants you guys to look like that to make sure she's the most beautiful woman in the room." A curious frown materialized on his face as he pointed at her. "Are those bloomers?"

Angela pulled them off and tossed them at him, hitting them in the face. "You tell me."

Shawn pulled the knee-length bloomers from his face while donning a mischievous grin. "Are those panties?"

She shook her head and giggled. "These stay on Mr. Hunter." She briefly dipped her head back and whined. "Urgh…Shawn, help me find a different dress that she'll like better." She pulled her pants on and fastened them.

Shawn mellowed his laugh after noticing her annoyance. "Honey, look" Shawn sat up on the bed, planting his boots on the ground. "Topanga has been planning her dream wedding since she was like…"

"Five years old." Angela rolled her eyes. "I know."

Shawn held his hand out for Angela to take. "Then let her have her day the way she wants it, and…" She placed her hand in his, and he guided her to sit on his lap. "When it's time." He bowed his head, moving his thumb back and forth, lightly grazing the back of her left hand. "When we're ready. Ours will be the way we want it."

She raked her fingers through his hair before wrapping her right arm around him. "You think about that?"

He looked up at her and licked his lips. "Once or twice."

"Oh yeah?" She rubbed his back while blissfully looking up. "Was it an outside wedding in a beautiful garden and then a romantic honeymoon in Paris?"

"I'm a guy, so… no." He swept his fingertips over her thigh and then around her waist before meeting his eyes with hers. "It was just you in my arms, the minister, and us promising to love each other and to be together forever." He paused for a second. "And really meaning it."

She lightly brushed the back of her hand on the side of his face before lifting it. "I love you."

"I love you too." He captured her lips in a long loving kiss before meeting eyes with hers once more. "Never leave."

She gently pushed a few rouge strands of hair from his face. "I could never leave you."

"You promise?"

"I promise." She tilted her head to the side just slightly while placing her hand on his chest. "But,…uh… I'm not the only flight risk in this relationship."

"I would never leave you." His gaze met hers. "And I'd never let you go." *****

She gently placed all five fingertips against the window, fading out the memory of his face, while dropping her head, licking her lips and exhaling through the tightness in her chest and stinging in her eyes.

The sudden buzzing of the alarm clock startled her. She plucked a few tissues from the box of Kleenex next to her feet, quickly blotting her face until it was dry. A gentle knock at her bedroom door sent her scurrying into her bathroom. "I'm up, Dad!" A few sniffles preceded the closing of her bathroom door just as her bedroom door opened.

"Angela? Baby?" The door slowly opened, revealing a rather tall man in uniform. "I have a little extra time this morning." He turned his attention to the closed bathroom door. "How about I make us a hot breakfast?"

"Um..." She opened the door, pausing in the doorway for a moment before continuing. "Sounds good." She nodded while struggling to force a smile.

His brows narrowed as concern washed over his face. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah" Her smile brightened a bit as she attempted to nod convincingly. "I..um.." She moved her fingers back and forth through the roots of the micro-braids at the front of her hair. "I slept really hard last night, and I'm still a little tired."

"Tired." He pursed his lips making his dimples dot his cheeks. Her silence and bowed head prompted Sergeant Moore's eyes to dart around the room in thought while bringing his hands to his hips. "When's the last time you spoke with Shawn?"

"Did you pick up a carton of eggs last night?" Angela started toward the door, but her father stiffened while standing over her. She looked up at him and sweetly stated. "Because I was thinking bacon and eggs…toast."

"You can't hide the fact that you miss him forever." Sergeant Moore stood in the doorway to block her exit. "At some point you're going to have to talk to me about how you feel." He cleared his throat and shifted his weight. "Do you want to go back to Philly?"

Angela gave a brief indication that she wanted to say something, but she came up empty. She latched her index fingers together while shifting her weight. "Or, we can have French toast." She chuckled uncomfortably. "That sounds good…right?" She lightly poked her dad in his side. He dropped his arms and stepped aside.

He paused for a moment, bowed his head and allowed her to exit the room. "How about pancakes?" He strolled through the living room waiting for her to respond. "Angela?"

An annoyed frown emerged on her face as she opened the cabinet above her. "I don't eat pancakes anymore, Dad."

"Why not? Because as I remember it," He opened the refrigerator door and pulled out the eggs. "The morning that we left, you, me and Shawn went to breakfast and you had the…"

"I don't …" Angela slammed the cabinet shut, quickly cutting him off.

"Want to talk about it." They completed the sentence in unison.

"Okay-okay." Sergeant Moore threw his hands up in defeat while lifting his shoulders. "So, uh...Let's talk about the freelance writing job you were offered."

Shawn sat down in a chair, cozy enough to be in someone's living room, but, trendy enough to rock the colorfully contemporary coffeehouse decor surrounding him. The scene was both laid back and full of life. It had been the only place in New York that made him feel at home. It was the kind of place that he and Angela would visit from time to time in Philly. They'd go to listen to poetry, share their love for books, and partake in conversations with others who were of the same vibe.

Shawn propped the sole of his black boot onto the edge of the small oak coffee table in front of him. He folded his left leg over, creating a triangle in his lap, leaving his left ankle to rest on his right thigh. He closed his eyes and listened to the man speaking into the microphone recite his original work about ending a long-term relationship. It wasn't deep enough to tug at Shawn's heart strings, but he could relate. It sent his thoughts traveling back to the letter he'd read from Angela and the conversation he had with Topanga. Suddenly, the feeling he fought to suppress began creeping up inside of him. The feeling of a gaping hole hollowing out his chest, sinking down into his stomach as it ripped him open for the umpteenth time since she'd left. Trying to fill the void with work and school wasn't doing it. 'Is she feeling what I'm feeling?' He thought while biting his bottom lip and bowing his head. 'God, I hope not.' The sound of fingers snapping around the room made his eyes open to the steaming cup of coffee in his hand.

"You look like you have a lot to say." A pretty brunette sat on the coffee table next to Shawn's boot. "You should speak on it. It'll make you feel better."

"What?" A perplexed expression covered Shawn's face as he skimmed over the sparkle in her brown eyes, sweet smile, and the way her short cropped haircut complimented the soft contours of her face. "Renee?" His eyes darted around the room before landing back on her. "Wh-what are you doing here?"

"I came with some friends." She pointed to a small group of people at the coffee bar. "What about you?"

Shawn dropped his feet to the floor, exhaling while leaning back to rest his back on the throw pillow behind him. "I come here to listen to poetry and unwind."

"Oh," She raised her arched eyebrows and shrugged. "I'm not a fan of poetry. But, I'm a big fan of coffee and getting out of the house."

He lowered his head, scratching the back of his head. "Me too."

She cleared her throat and glanced around the room for a few seconds waiting for him to lift his head. "Mr. Morris showed me your work on the granola account."

He raised his head and nodded. "Oh yeah?"

"Yeah" She smiled. "You took some really great outdoor shots, and your pitch sounded great."

He flashed a quick half-hearted smile at her. "Thanks"

"Hey," Renee tapped his arm with the back of her hand. "Are you going to take the Assistant position on the Praline account?"

"I'm really just trying to relax right now." He smoothed his hand over his face leaving an irritated expression behind, while trying to maintain his cool demeanor. "I'm not really here to talk about work."

"You're right. I'm sorry." She scanned the space around them before looking back at him. "Are you here with someone?"

"No," Shawn met his eyes with hers. "I come here to kind of..." He rolled his wrist to help gather his thoughts. "Be alone."

She bobbed her head with a small grin that masked the fact that she felt like he'd just slapped her in the face. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to…"

"No, I'm not talking about you." Shawn threw his hands out defensively while shaking his head. "I meant, I'm trying to get some alone time away from my roommates."

"Oh," Renee nodded her head and smiled. "Then can I sit with you for awhile?"

"I would, but..um…" He forced a smile back at her. "I was actually leaving. I have an early class." He set his coffee on the table, rubbed his hands over the thighs of jeans and got up to leave. "I'll see you at work tomorrow." He gently squeezed her shoulder as he walked by her. "Be good."

"I will." She waited for him to walk past her, before she pivoted to watch him leave. After he was out of sight, she smiled to herself before joining her friends.

Cory sat on the couch in the living room of his apartment. The only light illuminating the room, radiated from the television directly across from him. He flicked through the channels, mindlessly surfing through each station, looking for something to hold his attention for more than five minutes. He wasn't sure what time the periodic glances at the front door became automated, but he was aware that they had been for quite some time. He was also aware that it was way past his bedtime. His eyes were dry and his lids were heavy. But, he was determined to stay awake. He placed his elbow on the arm of the couch and cradled the side of his face with his hand.

"Cory, go to bed." Eric whined through the blanket partially covering his face. "I have to chase kids around tomorrow, and I need my sleep to keep me from killing them."

"You'll be fine." Cory mumbled from the palm of his hand. "You love those kids."

"Then I need my sleep to keep from killing you." Eric threw his pillow at Cory, hitting Cory in the face. "Go to bed!" He squirmed around trying to get comfortable on his inflatable mattress to no avail. "Now, give me my pillow back."

"No." Cory frowned while tucking the pillow between him and the arm of the couch.

"Cor, what are you still doing up?" Shawn asked after locking the front door behind him. "Isn't it past your bedtime?"

"Yes, but I couldn't very well go to bed if you're out at all times of night. Now can I?" Cory folded his arms over his chest while scowling at Shawn. "Where've you been all night?"

"Relax Dad," Shawn smirked while making his way to the refrigerator. "I'm fine."

"I'm your best friend, and I haven't seen you in days." Cory stood up and Eric snatched his pillow from the couch. "I'm worried about you." Cory frowned while watching Eric trudge out of the room, leaving his blanket to trail on the floor behind him. "Where are you going?"

"To bed." Eric answered without turning around.

Cory narrowed his brows while watching Eric enter Cory and Topanga's bedroom. "Is he?"

"Yep." Shawn nodded before taking a swig of his 20oz bottled cola.

"ERIC! GET OUTTA MY BED!" Topanga shouted before the guys heard a loud thud.

"Stop it Pangers! I'm tired and I wanna go to bed!" Eric shouted while crawling back into bed. "Now move over." Another thud quickly filled the room.

Cory and Shawn traded glances for a brief moment before shaking their heads and looking away. Shawn claimed a spot on the couch. He sat back and propped his left ankle on top of his knee. He could feel Cory's eyes burning a hole into him, but he refused to look at him. "What?"

"I read Angela's letter." Cory sat down on the couch next to Shawn. He leaned forward, bowed his head, set his elbows at his knees and clasped his hands together. "Shawn, why did you lie to me about Angela?"

Shawn released a long thoughtful sigh while bringing his drink down to rest on his thigh. "It's late…"

"Why haven't you called her?" Cory turned to look at Shawn. "Why won't you write her back?"

Shawn paused for a moment before chuckling. "God, you sound like the kids in Eric's class." He bobbed his head up and down with every sentence. "Why this?...and, Why that?...and, What's this?...and, enough already."

"Uh-huh, uh-huh," Cory rubbed his flattened hands against each other while staring at the ground. "I mean, we're only talking about the love of your life here, the woman that you're supposed to marry and spend the rest of your life with." He spread his hands apart. "But, sure we can act like it's no big deal."

Shawn set his drink on the table and stood up. "Let it go."

"Oh," Cory's eyes shifted up to look at Shawn. "Since when do I ever let anything go?"

"I'm not getting into this with you." Shawn began peeling his leather jacket off while making his way to the closet. "I don't want to talk about Angela. I just want to get into the shower and go to bed." He pulled out a hanger and carefully wrapped the jacket collar around neck of the hanger.

"Tell me why you're putting yourself through this. Tell me why you're putting Angela through this." The panic in his voice started punching through his demanding demeanor. "If you can tell me why, then I promise," His flattened his hands out in front of him, briefly touching his thumbs together, before spreading them out. "I'll let it go."

Shawn gritted his teeth in an effort to hold back some of his annoyance. "She…left…me." He threw his hand to his chest while making his way over to Cory. "She said she'd never leave me and she did. Alright?" He stopped in front of Cory, sizing him up in one frustrated sweep before lowering his voice. "And I love her enough to let her go." Shawn drew himself back a step. "Now, can you please…?" His eyes shifted in the direction of Cory and Topanga's room. "It's late and I have to get some sleep."

"She didn't leave you, Shawn." Cory's tone softened when he noticed the anger building behind Shawn's scowl. "She still thinks you're together." He extended his hand towards the phone. "She's willing to make the distance work, but you..."

"I what?" Shawn growled.

"You gave up." Cory's voice slowly escalated. "You didn't ask her to stay, and now you're not making an effort to keep her!" His frowned deepened. "And then you say you love her? Is this love, Shawn?"

Shawn froze in place for a moment. "How long, Cor?" Shawn dropped down to sit on the couch with a look of defeat. "How long do you think I can keep her happy with all this distance between us, before she meets someone else?"

"She's a beautiful woman." Cory copped the spot next to Shawn. "I'm sure she will meet lots of guys who'd like to take her out."

"Wow, thanks Cor" Shawn bowed his head and mumbled. "I feel a lot better."

"Shawny, you didn't let me finish." Cory waved his hands and chuckled. "I was going to say; You're the only man she wants." He bumped his arm against his friend's while staring at the ground. "Call her." He glanced at his friend who was still looking at the floor. "You owe her that." He got up and made his way to his room.

Shawn walked over to the phone lying on the kitchen counter. He picked up and held it for awhile. He strolled back over to the couch and sat down. He dialed the number he'd memorized from the letter she'd wrote. The butterflies in the pit of his stomach were going crazy. He sunk down deeper into the couch with every ring. By the fourth ring, he'd lost the nerve and started to hang up.

"Hello" Angela answered the phone to silence on the other end. Her eyes closed as she exhaled through the heavy weight in her chest. "Shawn?"

"Angela," Shawn eased up in the couch, giving in to a small chuckle. "H-hi" He placed his elbow at his knee, closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead. "H-how…how are you?"

"I haven't heard from you in four months." Hearing his voice made the frustration she'd held back, suddenly surface. "I feel like someone's ripped my heart out and used it as baseball, but other than that… I guess I'm okay." Her eyes welled and tilted her head back to keep them at bay.

"Don't you think this is hard on me too?" The words fell out of his mouth a little harsher than he intended. Shawn dropped his head and softly confessed. "I never meant to hurt you."

"So, why I haven't heard from you?" She narrowed her brows. "If you wanted this to be over…"

"Hey, _you_ left _me._" He bit back.

"I never said I wanted things to end. Shawn, I asked you for one year." She threw her index finger up and scoffed. "One year…to spend time with my father."

"I'm giving you what you wanted!" Shawn raised his voice while tossing his hand forward. "I can't believe you're upset with me for trying to make you happy."

"This is you making me happy?" She tossed her head to the ceiling for a moment before bowing her head. "You said you'd never let me go, and you did. You think this makes me happy?"

"Honey, look" He lifted his shoulders while speaking with his hand. "If you're unhappy, come home." He put his hand to his chest. "I would love to have you back with me."

"I miss you." Angela sweetly replied. "But, my dad."

"What do you want to do?" He moved his fingers back and forth through the hair at the back of his head while staring at the floor, listening to the silence between them. "Angela, honey, please just tell me what you want and I'll do it."

"I want you to stop shutting me out." She quietly confessed. "I want you to talk to me."

He sunk back down in the couch a bit more relax than before. "Done."

"Bonjour Angela!" Jean-Luke happily called out as he entered the living room.

Shawn narrowed his brows as a mixture of anger, hurt, and shock moved through him. "Who's that?"

"I brought crepes!" Jean-Luke set the box of pastries down on the kitchen counter as Monique and Sasha entered the apartment.

"Angela, I'm talking to you." Shawn's tone rapidly increased. "Who is that?"

She glanced at Jean-Luke while trying to explain. "That's just…"

"Your father?" Blood surged through Shawn's veins and felt like he was going to explode. "No, I know the sound of his voice. That's not it."

"No, it's…"

"A brother I don't know about?" He rose to his feet as his scowl deepened. "A long lost Uncle? A cousin?"

"Shawn!" She shouted to get his attention. "Listen to me."

He shoved his hand into his pocket while swaying back and forth trying to calm down. "I'm listening."

"He's just a friend." She confessed in a softer tone. "That's all."

"A friend." The fury in his eyes couldn't convey the level rage that burned within him. "Like we were friends at one time?"

"It's not like that." Angela burrowed her brows. "We have classes together, and we hang out with two other girls."

"So did we." He bit his lip as his head moved side to side. "You know what? We're both adults." He scoffed. "You're free to do what you want."

She angrily squinted. "Is that how you really feel?"

He spoke through a clenched jaw. "Yeah, that's how I really feel."

She raised a brow and huffed. "Fine"

"Fine" He hung up the phone and threw it on the couch. He stuck his hands at his hips and began pacing.

"Shawn?" Cory strolled into the living room scratching his head and yawning. "Is everything okay?" He stopped and immediately caught Shawn's glare. "I take it things didn't go well with Angela."

Shawn cut his eyes away from Cory, bit his lip and sat down. He could feel Cory coming closer. "Stay away from me, Cory. I don't want to talk to you."

Cory drew a somber look which made him drop his head. He slowly turned around and headed to his bedroom.


	3. Chapter 3: Moving On?

**Diclaimer**: I do not own Boy Meets World or its characters. They belong to Michael Jacobs and April Kelly. I'm just borrowing them.

Thanks for reviewing! Sorry it's taken so long, it's been a rough, busy and blessed year. I finally had the downtime to dust off the stories and start writing again. I hope this makes up for lost time.

Chapter 3

"Thelma and Louise, Waiting to Exhale, Reality Bites, How Stella Got Her Groove Back…" Jean-Luke leans over the stack of videos sitting on the coffee table. He creates a new stack as he calls them off. "I understand the man-hating movies, but…." He arches his right brow at Angela, who is curled up in the corner of the couch, innocently smiling. "The Breakfast Club?"

"It's a good movie!" Angela laughs.

"Qui, it is." Jean-Luke chuckles through his sexy French accent. "Let me get this right," He points at the stack of videos. "Your plan is to watch all of these today?"

"Yes," She draws her right foot up to meet the calf of her left leg, which is tucked underneath her. "I'm going to watch these movies, O.D. on ice cream and try to get over Shawn." She taps his leg. "Since my girls are in class today, you get to make sure I stay away from the phone."

"Qui, I like this idea." Jean-Luke's dimples winked at her through his smile. "I shall hate Shawn with you." He draped his arm around her shoulders, before muttering under his breath. "It shouldn't take me long. I'm already there."

"What?"

Jean-Luke quickly answers. "I said, _I'm not sure what to wear_."

"What you have on is fine." Angela chuckled as she pointed to the television. "The first video's in, all we need is…."

"Ice cream!" Jean-Luke smirks as he raises off of the couch.

"Hey Shawn!"

A stern voice called out from behind.

"I'll be right there!" Shawn burrows his brows briefly as he slips his camera case off of his shoulder, before setting his backpack against the foot of his leather tall-back swivel office chair. He adjusts his jacket to properly rest upon his shoulders, before opening his desk drawer and pulling out his lint brush. His phone suddenly rings as he frantically brushes the dog hair from his black slacks. He glances at the phone a couple of times, hesitant to answer it, just in case the conversation requires more than the precious seconds ticking by as his boss, who just happens to be one of the firm's owners, waits in his office for him. Shawn quickly grabs the phone. "Morris, Morris, and Chestnut Advertising…This is Shawn."

"Hey Shawny!" Eric jubilantly answers.

Shawn's first instinct tells him to hang up, but knows that Eric would call right back. "I can't talk right now Eric, I have a meeting to take."

"This will only take a second." Sensing the urgency in Shawn's voice, Eric begins speaking faster than normal. "Okay, since you and Angela officially called it splitsville like three days ago. Which I really don't understand, because she's hot and she loves you like no other woman would be willing to and…"

"I'm hanging up now." Shawn tosses the lint brush back into the drawer, unintentionally slamming it shut.

"No-no…wait…" Eric quickly replies. "I have a date with this super hot-hot-hottie and she has a friend and she asked me if I had a friend."

"Tell her you don't." Shawn peeks over the partition of his cubicle to make sure his boss isn't in immediate view. "I gotta go."

"Shawn, wait. I really like this woman, and she's got a kid and doesn't go out much." Eric glanced up at the sky for a moment in thought. "Listen, she's afraid to go on a date alone, and you've been mourning you this break-up with Angela long enough. And…If you don't wanna fight for Angela, then you need to move on." His tone softens. "Because she's going to."

"I have to go." Shawn somberly confesses.

"Think about it, man." Eric adds right before he hears the dial tone.

Shawn flashes an artificial smile at a couple of co-workers he made eye contact with as they pass his cubicle. He clears his throat, waiting for the path to clear before making his way to his boss's office. He taps on the door as it opens. "Hello Sir,"

"Hey, Shawn" The tall, lanky, well-dressed man waves him in. "Have a seat." He points to one of the living room style chairs in front of his mahogany desk. "How long have we known each other, Hunter?"

"Since my senior year in high school, sir." Shawn cozies down into the chair, crossing his leg in an 'L' shape, resting his right ankle on his left knee.

"Yes, yes." Mr. Morris nods while pressing the fingertips of both hands together, creating the shape of a spade, while staring at Shawn. "I'd say we've built up about four years of trust…Wouldn't you?"

Shawn's head slowly bobs up and down as his brows narrow. "I would."

"Would you say that I've done a lot for you over the years?" Mr. Morris tilts his head down, glaring deep into Shawn's eyes, separating his fingertips and connecting them with each point made. "I hired you as my assistant from the senior intern program,"

Shawn nodded.

"You told me that you had an interest in photography, and I told you that it would be a wonderful addition to your portfolio." Mr. Morris disconnected his fingers and connected them once more. "So, I got you a job with one of the most sought after photographers in Philadelphia."

Shawn nodded.

Mr. Morris ran his fingers over his tie, smoothing it out as he continued. "You went to college and needed a part-time job after I left for New York, so I called up the partners at the old firm in Philly and asked them to hire you back, and they did."

Shawn cleared his throat as he sat up in his seat. "I've thanked you for everything that you've done for me, more times than I can count, Sir. Do I seem ungrateful?"

"No," Mr. Morris shook his head. "Not at all, Shawn." He slid his forearms over the freshly polished desk, clasping his hands together. "I just want you to understand that I did all of that, because I see a tremendous amount of potential in you and I trust you to do a great job on a consistent basis." A small grin tugged at the corner of his mouth after seeing the relief on Shawn's face. "You don't know how happy I was when you called to tell me that you moved to New York and wanted to work here while you finished up your last year in college. See..." He pointed at the faint smile on his face. "This is happy." His face suddenly deadpanned. "But, then again so is this."

A small laughed escaped Shawn, infusing a small chuckle from Mr. Morris. "I'm glad to be here too, Sir."

Mr. Morris lifted his brows. "You are?"

"Yes, I am."

"Then, why is it that your immediate Supervisor, Mr. Williams, informs me that you turned down the 'Christmas In Paris' account?" Mr. Morris spread his hands, squinting with curiosity and concern, while glaring at Shawn. "Do you know how much I have riding on that account? I'm only sending my best people on it." He points at Shawn. "That's why I told him that I wanted you to be the project co-manager." He bobbed his head once before releasing one obvious smack with his tongue. "Unless you can give me a brilliantly valid reason as to why you turned it down."

Shawn glanced at the floor for several seconds before sheepishly looking back at Mr. Morris. "Can I say it's personal?"

"At this stage in our relationship?" Mr. Morris lifts his chin while shaking his head. "No"

"I have school." Shawn quickly answers.

"I have that covered, Shawn." Mr. Morris reciprocates. "School won't be a problem."

Shawn squirms in chair for a moment before settling back down. "Mr. Morris…"

"You're going to Paris in two weeks. You're going to write few blurbs and take a few pictures of Danielle Savage's new line of winter fashions. Rene will assist you." Mr. Morris demands. "That was an order…Not a request." He kicked his head toward the door. "We're done here."

Shawn rubs the back of his neck a couple of times, racking his brain for a rebuttal, but coming up empty. He slowly rises from his chair and starts towards the door. He feels like the walls are closing in and he can't find an air pocket to breathe into. "Thank you, Sir." He flashes a quick, empty smile at his boss before leaving the office.

"Okay, so we answered the following questions:" Topanga slides her elbow onto the heavy wooden table, wedging the fingers of her right hand into her thick luscious locks, thoughtfully running the fingers of her left hand over the words of her notebook. "Is censorship legal?"

"And, under what circumstances?" The gentleman sitting across from her places a checkmark next to the completed questions as they review them. "Should censorship be legal?"

"And, under what circumstances?" Topanga slowly bobs her head. "The values in conflict?" She bites her bottom lip while staring disapprovingly at the page. His silence prompts her to look at him. His head is bowed and she catches an eye full of his straight black hair, cut short and combed to fall just right around his face. His luminous mane seems to beg her to run her fingers through it. She shakes the thought from her head, annoyed that it was there in the first place. "Yeah, (sigh)…I see it too."

The gentleman runs his left index finger and thumb down the sides of his neatly manicured goatee. "We listed the importance of both, but I think we put more emphasis in the right to free speech than in the public's right to…"

"Urgh" She softly purrs. "It's like the question with so many ways to answer, it's…unanswerable." Topanga pushes her fingers from the root to the tips of her long brown hair, her hand circles her face until the top her fist catches her chin.

"Isn't that the point?" Chris jots down a few notes. "It's like the student art exhibit that we went to a couple of weeks ago."

"Oh, yeah?" She sweetly smiles as her eyes rolls up to meet his. "This should be good."

"It might not be, so don't listen too close." He hunches over, chuckling while pulling his book closer to him, while staring into her eyes. "Excellent art continues plant seeds for so many questions with so many different answers, that the only person who can correctly answer the question is the artist who created the art work. That ensures that the work itself will live on forever, challenging and inspiring generations of people."

"So, you're saying that the only reason the professors ask us to answer questions like this is so,…" She erects herself in her seat, and begins tapping her pencil against the paper on the desk in front of her. "They don't have to come up with new questions every year."

"If it ain't broke…" Chris smiles back, allowing his attention to briefly fall on her soft full lips before shifting back to her angelic blue gaze. "Well?"

"Very good." She folds her arms over her chest, grinning from ear to ear. "But, it does nothing for our question about censorship."

"Darn it" He snaps is finger exaggeratedly.

"Darn it." She mimics him before tossing her head toward the ceiling and laughing. "Coffee?"

"Coffee" His dark brown eyes still sparkle through the strain of reading the sea of letters swimming on the pages of the law books for the past few hours. He eases back into his seat, closes his eyes and lightly massages his lids a few times before opening them to look at her. He flattens his hands against the hard tabletop, while spreading his legs, preparing to stand. "I think it's my turn to get it."

"Blagh…" Topanga's face turns to disgust as she sits straight up in her seat, spreading her fingers apart. "If I drink another drop of that sorry vending machine coffee, I'm gonna puke." She laughed and so did he. "Hey, I know a spot not too far from here." She rolls her hand around until it's facing up. "We can stretch our legs, grab a late lunch, and get great coffee."

Chris stacked his forearms on the tabletop one in front of the other while raising his brows and leaning forward. "Oh yeah?"

"Uh-huh" Her smile fades and her tone softens as her eyes shift downward. "We go there with Shawn every now and then." She softly shrugged. "You know…when he needs someone one around, but doesn't feel like talking."

"Shawn?" Chris touches the bottom of her chin with the fingertips of his right hand, gently lifting her head. "The mystery man has a name."

She blushes while lifting her chin from his hand. She burrows her brows with reserved curiosity. "Mystery man?"

"We've been project partners for several weeks." He allows his hand to gradually fall to the table before lifting his shoulders in a bashful shrug. "I mean,...I've noticed the ring."

She glances down at her hand before frowning at him inquisitively. "I told you I was married."

"No" He slowly shakes his head, quietly whispering. "No, you didn't."

"I-"

"We only meet here," He gives the private library room at the University a once over. "Never at public library that's closer to your job," He places his hand to his chest. "And mine." He quickly extends his hand to hers.

"It's the school library. It has more resources." Topanga is clearly insulted as she sternly states. "I would never cheat on Corey!"

"I never said you would. Wait-" He cocks his head to the side while narrowing his brows. "Corey? I thought you said his name is Shawn."

"It's Corey." She sternly confirms before shouting. "My husband's name is Corey!"

"Sssshhhhhh!" Forces through the open door of the private room.

"I'm not a cheater, and…" She glances at the open door before scowling at Chris. "I don't appreciate your insinuations that I am." She shakes her head. "That I would..."

"Your words." He puts his hand to his chest. "Not mine." He watches her scowl darken. "Look, we've always kept it professional, and I don't mean to insinuate anything. " Chris draws his hand back towards his torso while leaning closer to her. "But, I just find it curious that you've never mentioned anything about your husband." He narrows his eyes. "As a matter of fact, you never even mentioned that you were even married…Not once."

"I love my husband." She slams her book closed. "Corey and I are happy…" She shuts another book and slaps it onto the first. "And we're in love and...happy."

He watches her gather her things without giving him a second look. "I'm sorry, Topanga…I didn't mean to…"

"I have to go." Her voice drifts off as she slowly closes one book after the other.

"You don't have to leave." Chris slides the two books towards him, softly confirming. "You and I are friends." He watches her pull them back towards her. "Study buddies…Topanga…"

"I" She briefly pauses. "I have to go." She swipes her book from the table, clumsily gathering her things and hurries out the door.

The ending credits for the last movie awakens Jean-Luke from his short nap, as they scroll up the screen. He lifts his head from the back of the couch, before glancing down at Angela. She is nuzzled in the bend of his right arm with her head resting against his firm chest, resting in a quiet slumber. Mother Nature is calling him to release the remnants of all the tea he'd drank, but he didn't want to move. He'd longed to have her in his arms for months, and now that she was, he'd planned to keep her there as long as possible. He leans over and kisses sweetly on her forehead.

"Shawn?" She groggily mutters.

"No," Jean-Luke fights the sinking feeling in his chest as he mumbles. "We should work on expanding your vocabulary a bit."

"What?"

"I said, I can see how that movie was a hit." He lifts his arm, allowing her to move from his embrace. "It's me…uh-em…Jean-Luke."

Angela smirks before exhaling. "I'm sorry, Jean-Luke." She uses her right hand to slowly peel herself off of his chest. "I guess I'm still a little..."

"I'll get that." He stands up, smoothing his pants before heading to the telephone. "Sir," He tips his head as he passes Angela's father.

"Jean-Luke" Sergeant Moore nods back, before entering the living room and spotting Angela straightening the couch. "Feeling better?"

"Hey Dad," Angela smiles while tossing the last pillow on the couch. "I didn't hear you come in."

"Well, you and your little friend were passed out on the couch when I got home." He glances behind him before looking back at Angela. "He _is_ just a friend?"

"Yeah, Dad." Angela frowned curiously. "First Shawn, now you too?"

"No," He slides his hand over the back of his neck while slowly exhaling. "I'm just checking to make sure that you're not moving too fast."

"Moving is what got me into this mess." She whispered to herself.

"What?"

"I said, moving on is probably best." She tucks her hair behind her ear, before watching at her flattened hand run over the sides of the stack of movies in front of her. "Shawn and I haven't been a real couple in four months." Her eyes darts to her father's as she repeats herself in disbelief. "_Four_ months."

"Angela, baby." Her father's sympathetic eyes comforted her. "You can't put a time limit on love."

"Where did you say Shawn lives?" Jean-Luke asks as he strolls into the living room. "New York or Philadelphia?

"Why?" The perplexed expression on Angela's face matched to the one on her father's. "What's wrong?"

"Style Edge Magazine wants your first story to be about Trina Strong's winter clothing line." Jean-Luke tucks his hands into his jeans pockets. "The shoot is in New York in two weeks."

Her eyes lit up, but her face remains serious. "Who's the photographer?"

Jean-Luke scans the ceiling for a second before looking back at her. "I don't know." He shrugs while rocking on his heels. "Where did you say Shawn lived?"

"I have to call the office." She announced before disappearing into her bedroom.

"Hi, honey," Corey states without lifting his head from his textbook.

"Hey baby," Shawn playfully answers back.

"Very funny." Corey raises his head to watch Shawn scramble around the kitchen. "I was hoping that you were Topanga." He checks his watch. "She's been covered in tests and projects and I haven't spent much time with her lately."

"Well, law school is time consuming, Cor." A curious frown emerges onto Shawn's face as he closes the cabinet. "Hey," He strolls over to the kitchen table, with an empty glass in his hand. "Do you remember coming to my office to make some copies?"

"Sure" An innocent grin spreads across Corey's lips as he eases back in the chair. "It was two days ago."

"Did you talk to anyone while you were there?" Shawn sets the glass down, before heading to the refrigerator.

"Yeah, a couple of people." Corey stares off at nothing in particular. "A former head cheerleader turned advertising assistant. She told me that black is the new black." He perks up in his seat while sticking his index finger up. "And I_ can _wear white after Labor Day and still be fashionable, which is good because I have these really cool pair of…"

"Hey idiot,"

"Yeah?"

"You were answering my question." Shawn finishes pouring the last bit of orange juice into his glass. "Who else did you talk to?"

Corey glanced up at the ceiling while moving his lips before meeting eyes with Shawn. "Oh," He proudly pointed his finger at Shawn. "I met that Account Manager that you work with, the cute one that makes you uncomfortable, because she's always flirting with you."

"Rene"

"Yes, Rene" Corey folded his arms over his chest. "Nice girl."

"Yeah, nice girl." Shawn flatly answers while slowly swirling his glass around as the ice blends with the juice. "What'd you two talk about?"

"Well," Corey frees his right hand to motion with. "She said that you were a great team mate, but she feels like you'd do a little better if you opened up more." He places his hand on his right cheek. "I told her that it's been difficult few months for you since you and Angela were ripped apart by the same person who put you back together the first time you broke up and the long distance thing isn't going as well as you guys had planned and…."

"You told her that?" The annoyance on Shawn's face is more subtle than the grip he has on the back of the chair he stands behind. "Corey, why would you…"

Corey innocently shrugs. "I said too much?"

"You said too much." Shawn exasperatedly exhales. "Corey, I just ended the only relationship that has ever meant anything to me."

"Wha-what about us?" Corey sweetly asks. "Don't our relationship mean anything to you, or am I just some kind of band-aid that you put on when you're heart is broken?"

"What?" Shawn rolled his eyes while pulling the chair out from under the table. "Of course, our relationship means the world to me, Cor." He lovingly states as he rolls his wrist. "But, I don't think of what we have as a relationship, it's more of a friendship." He smirks at Corey's emerging grin. "You're like a brother to me." Shawn chuckles. "Can we get back to me now?"

"Okay" Corey gleefully shifts in his seat as Shawn chuckles. "I said what I said so she'd back off and then you can take some time to figure things out with Angela." He spreads his hands open and shrugs. "Where's bad?"

"Bad?" Shawn leans into the table. "Well, there's a 'Christmas in Paris' ad campaign coming up and she's trying to fix it so that I have to go with her. She's thinks it'll help" He uses air quotes. "Cheer me up." He picks up his glass.

"Okay" Corey slowly nods.

"Corey, Rene's my co-worker. I can't date my co-worker." Shawn taps his index finger to his temple exaggeratedly. "Oh yea, and….Angela's in Paris!"

"Uh-huh…uh-huh." Corey thoughtfully rubs his chin. "Paris is a big city."

"We're talking about me, Corey." He shakes his head. "With my luck, Angela would see me with Rene." Shawn lifts his glass to his lips. "I gotta get off of that account before I lose my job and my..."

"And your, what?" Corey quickly asks.

"Nothing." Shawn takes another sip of juice.

"You know Shawny, you wouldn't care what she thought of you and Rene, if you really thought it was over." A proud smile brightens Corey's face. "Is it over Shawn?"

"Yeah," Shawn sets his glass back on the table before somberly meeting his eyes with Corey's. "Yeah, Cor, it is."

"Okay" Corey nods as he gets up to answer the door. "If you say it's over between you and Angela, then don't worry about accepting the account."

"I don't have a choice." Shawn answers before noticing the striking young man standing in the doorway. "Cor?"

Corey leans forward just slightly to confirm what he was hearing was correct. "I'm sorry, who did you say you were?"

"I'm Chris, Topanga's partner in class." He handed Corey a thick notebook, undeniably full of handwritten notes from class. "She left this in the library, and I certain she'll need it tomorrow and I won't see her again until Monday."

"See her again?" The confusion on Corey's face was obvious. "Whe-when…"

"I'll take that." Shawn took the book from Corey's hand. "Thanks for dropping it off."

"If this is Corey, then you must be Shawn." Chris smiled while holding his hand out.

"Yeah," Shawn glances down at Chris' hand without shaking it. "Like I said… thanks." He slowly shuts the door in Chris' face. He turns to Corey, sizes him up and down, before placing his hand on his shoulder. "Don't spin out of control, yet. Talk to Topanga."

"Don't spin out of control. Talk to Topanga." Corey repeats over and over as he trudges in the direction of his bedroom. "Don't spin out of control. Talk to Topanga."


End file.
